The syrup nugget. The motherfucking syrup nugget. It announces itself with a burst of...

Drew:

I can only assume by your cavalier attitude that you have yet partake in the wonderment that is the Pancakewich. Allow me to enlighten you. What happens is the one true god grows Panecakewiches on trees in the Elitian fields using a mystical incantation, he then proceeds to magick them down to your local eatery where whatever societal reject Griddlworld has rescued off the dole that week gently wraps them in cellophane and passes them along to you, the fortunate consumer. You proceed to ingest this finery in the vain hope that your obviously overmatched tastebuds can somehow comprehend the delectable intricacies that face them. Is that egg? Why yes, yes it is. And bacon too. But wait, did they...? They didn't. Yes, they did, they did indeed. They added cheese. And then, then my friend, they wrapped it in a sumptuous pancake bun. As your tastebuds try to process that amazing piece of information, it hits them: the syrup nugget. The motherfucking syrup nugget. It announces itself with a burst of confectionery grandiosity the likes of which your pallet has never seen!